June 18, 2012

You went in what they call 'an unnatural way'. They usually mean a murder, suicide or an accident. They mean you died young. Suddenly, even forty is young when you are dead. If you're alive, though, it is the opposite.

You went without a goodbye. You went leaving a trail of devastation behind you. You went without ever looking back, burning memories and traces, forever corrupting flashbacks that were once pure, happy and loved.

Your name is now uttered with trepidation, with a hint of deep agony in the voice, a quaver. Your name is forbidden. A swear word, not uttered.

You are mentioned specifically only when you appear in dreams, as a silent witness, like you truly are. Your possessions are now sold, they populate other lives, except two or three mementos that have been held on to, passed on as heirlooms. The watch you wore on your right wrist never worked after you left.